


Akechi Goro, Back Alley Doctor

by lapinprince



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Blood and Injury, Innuendos/Sexual Jokes, M/M, implied/established relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21831934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lapinprince/pseuds/lapinprince
Summary: The fearless leader of the Phantom Thieves had spread himself out on the table in the most seductive pose possible, complete with arms above the head and his head tucked toward his shoulder for a coy side profile.Goro wondered if Takemi had to deal with this.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Kudos: 156





	Akechi Goro, Back Alley Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> holy shit this fic is SO OLD and i never managed to finish it until now. i didnt really edit it much so i still consider it something i wrote years ago... im glad that i managed to figure out how to end it so i could post it tho!! enjoy :^) 
> 
> written in august 2017.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/laprincenico)
> 
> -♔

"Almost there," Goro exhaled, impressively hefting the weight of an entire human over his shoulder. The black clad lump whined, hands feebly pressed to his side, small drips of blood dotting their path. It was staining his nice coat, too, but he supposed that could be dealt with later. Goro nudged Akira's face when he stopped making noises, earning him a mumbled "stoppit". At least he was still conscious.

This is why you don't explore palaces until you couldn't move, especially without any items. 

The usual destination would be Leblanc or Takemi's clinic, but they were much too far from the train station. Though Akira's blood loss was a steady drip by now, he'd lost too much earlier to risk it– Goro’s own injuries were ignored as he could probably live with them for longer. Probably. Goro dug a free hand into his pocket, grasping his key remote to unlock the door to the building, twisting himself into an uncomfortable dance to balance the dumb delinquent while also keeping the door open. They both scuttled inside, Akira's arm flailing slightly and planting a nice smear across the window. 

"Akira!" Goro barked, whisking him clear away from any other surfaces. 

"'ll clean it later," Akira mumbled, pushing his glasses up and subsequently streaking more blood onto the lenses. 

Why didn't Goro just dump him in an alley again? 

“Like shit you’ll clean it later,” Goro swore under his breath, shifting Akira further up his shoulder. The elevators were unfortunately under maintenance, and so Goro had no choice but to drag Akira's body up four flights of stairs, drips and stains of blood splattering the walls and ground along the way. He wondered what his landlord would think, seeing such a trail of blood leading all the way to his door. That would have to be a worry for another time. 

Once inside, Goro dropped Akira unceremoniously to the floor, his dampened coat making a sickening splat when he landed. The poor detective massaged his shoulders, tense from lugging Akira so far and sore from straining the already injured muscles. At least the bleeding from his wound wasn’t as bad, though it must be just adrenaline keeping him standing upright at this point. The fallen leader gurgled incomprehensibly, his limbs crumpled up at Goro’s feet and curled up in an interesting angle. 

"Take your jacket off and sit on the kitchen table, let me get some supplies," Goro ordered. He turned in time to watch Akira wriggle out of his coat like a pathetic worm and stagger to his feet. 

"'Scuse me for th'intrusionnn-" Akira slurred, tugging his shoes off and shuffling over to the table. Unable to reliably hop onto it, however, he decided to launch himself atop the surface, sending abandoned newspapers flying. Goro pretended not to hear the crash, as he was too busy shedding his bloodied coat and patting at his side to check his own injury. At least the rest of the newspapers on the table could serve as an excellent absorbent material. 

Goro returned soon after, a large and well used first aid kit in one hand and a bowl of water in the other. He set the kit on the table and cracked it open, running his fingers along the sides as he looked for what to take out. He pulled out a few cleaning supplies and set them on the table, finally turning his attention to Akira. 

The fearless leader of the Phantom Thieves had spread himself out on the table in the most seductive pose possible, complete with arms above the head and his head tucked toward his shoulder for a coy side profile. 

He wondered if Takemi had to deal with this. 

Goro ignored the idiot’s pose and reached over to pull up his turtleneck to start cleaning the wound, to which he spasmed slightly at the unexpected contact. 

"Hold still, you idiot- You have to take your shirt off, it's too impractical to try to clean the wound otherwise," Goro said, a hand already lifting the white turtleneck up Akira's stomach. Akira gave the wooziest of grins of understanding back to the him, his own hands reaching down to grip the hem of his shirt too. 

"Oooh, you gotta strip me... Sure thing... Gimme a pole and I'll make it a show, too," he said as mischievously as possible while slurring, doing his best to wink at the poor detective, and managing to look like he was about to black out again instead. Goro pressed the bridge of his nose and took a deep, timed breath. 

"Akira, please. Do I need to tie you down or something for you to cooperate?" 

"Ohoho, tie me up? Yes please."

Akira yelped as Goro couldn't help but thwack him in the side of the head. 

"Nevermind, forget I said that." Goro tugged the shirt off completely and dropped it on the floor.

“You can gag me too,” Akira suggested, looking sluggish enough that Goro wouldn’t be surprised if he was beginning to separate from his body on a metaphysical level. Goro thankfully kept himself from smacking the stupid leader again. He pulled his hand to his mouth and tugged the tip of his glove off with his teeth, yanking it off and shoving it into Akira’s mouth, ignoring the muffled “Oh, shexhy-” that came out afterwards.

The wound was about as ugly as he thought it would be, something between a laceration and a straight up stab wound in his side, probably from one of those spear or sword toting shadows. It wasn’t too deep, fortunately, but it would probably cause a scar– he’d suffered similar injuries before, and the marks on his torso were proof of it. But honestly, despite how stupid Akira was acting, Goro just wanted to kick himself that this happened, if only Goro was able to step in front properly, then– 

“Goooorooo,” Akira moaned, wiggling on the table. He had spat out the glove and it just laid on his chest, crumpled up like a snail. Goro used his forearms to keep his legs down, but that only resulted in his top half wiggling instead. How was he this enamoured with such an idiot? 

“What?” Goro asked irritably. Akira made an almost adorable looking pout but said nothing– wait, no, his lips were puckered. Did he… want a kiss? 

“Kiss it better, Goro.” Akira said in a stupid, whiny voice.

“I’m not going to kiss an open wound better.”

“Why not?”

Goro decided to ignore Akira for the time being and started to clean up the wound, pretending not to hear all the genuinely pained sounds coming from the thief. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to need stitches immediately– the bleeding had stopped somewhat with the clean dressings pressed to them. He would just need some rest to recover from the blood loss, and he should be fine. If he was being honest to himself, the breath he let out when he finished taping down the dressings was one of relief.

“Goro.”

Glad to be done, Goro busied himself with putting the supplies away, noting that his medical tape and bandage rolls should be restocked soon.

“Goro…” 

After a quick inventory check, his surgical thread should be replenished too– and he really should find a more sterile way to stock it considering how often he had to do stitches on himself, perhaps more anesthetic gel too–

“Goro!”

Goro’s head snapped up to attention to see Akira curled onto his non injured side, looking at the detective with a sad, worried look on his face. 

“...Aren’t you hurt too?” Akira asked, struggling to sit up. Goro held his hands out to motion for him to just continue laying down, which he did.

“Yes. But your injuries were far worse,” Goro said, glancing down to himself. His own injury had bled into the white dress shirt under his jacket, and he tsked when he pressed his hand to it and it came back slightly wet.

“Why’d you try to protect me?” Akira asked, an unreadable look on his face, a huge contrast to just minutes before. Goro opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out, a deep discomfort distracting him from thinking of the right words.

“I mean, I just got hurt anyway– but you got hurt too.” Akira continued, and he held a hand over his injury, wincing at the slight pressure. Goro took a breath.

“You’re the team leader, so it would be best to keep you–” 

“I didn’t want you to get hurt instead, though.” The difference in Akira’s tone was sobering, and for some reason guilt twisted in Goro’s stomach. “Let me take a look.” Akira managed to sit himself up, the effects of the bloodloss conveniently subsided, making Goro think that Akira was just playing it all up to be difficult. Still, he found himself hefting himself up to also sit on the table, allowing Akira access to him. Slightly shaky, his somewhat bloodied hands carefully unbuttoned Goro’s shirt and opened it, the older boy hissing with pain when the fabric stuck to the wound was peeled off. Akira groaned while he leaned over to pick up a clean cloth and dip it into the water.

“Akira, I-”

“Shut up,” Akira sighed out, finally sitting upright and in a position that didn’t hurt. He started to dab at the blood dried around the wound in attempts to clean, his movements unsteady and inconsistent. Goro bit down on his lower lip at every press of the rough fabric of the cloth against his skin, but he stayed still and let Akira work.

“Bandage.”

“I don’t own any bandages big enough to cover this, Akira–”

“‘Kay, I’ll look myself then,” Akira mumbled as he craned over to search in Goro’s first aid kit. He didn’t need to vocalize the pain shooting up his side for Goro to know how much it hurt. Goro tsked and swatted him away, reaching over and pulling out a few dressings big enough to comfortably cover the wound, as well as some medical tape. He handed it to Akira, who shifted and sat up in a less painful way to start dressing Goro’s wound. He worked in a relative silence, Goro watching him carefully and letting out small, occasional hisses when Akira’s hand slipped and pressed too hard. But despite that, Goro managed to relax and watch him, a strange fondness growing within him as he did so.

“Alright… done,” Akira breathed, sitting back. The taping job wasn’t the cleanest and Goro knew he could have done better on himself, but he left it as is, appreciative to just be taken care of for once.

“Thank you, Akira,” he said, shucking off his shirt entirely and standing up to get a new one. Akira grabbed his wrist before he could go too far. He turned back towards him to see him sitting there with puffed cheeks and puckered lips.

“...Now you want a kiss?” 

“You gotta pay me for my work.”

Goro rolled his eyes and obliged, leaning in to give Akira a quick peck on the lips. Akira pressed forward more, whining once again when Goro had already pulled away.

“Hey, I deserve more than that–!” he said, pouting.

“So what do I get for lugging your sorry ass across Tokyo and up the stairs, then?” Goro raised an eyebrow, pulling his wrist away from Akira’s grasp. “Ah, right, you said you’d clean up all your blood from the stairwell. We should probably get to that before I get accused of attempted murder, hmm?”

Akira mulled his options over, opting instead to just lay back down on the table and close his eyes. “Mmm… Actually, I’m tired,” he decided, wiggling a bit to get in a comfortable position. “G’night!”

Goro pressed his head against the wall in attempts for the pressure to soothe his growing migraine. He supposed that the look of a back alley doctor would only be completed with a set of suspicious bloodstains, but he’d have to potentially give up his day job entirely if he didn’t clean up before his neighbours saw. Sighing deeply, he headed to his room and threw on a shirt overtop the semi-sloppy dressings on his side, slipping on his shoes with cleaning supplies in hand to fix the mess Akira made.

**Author's Note:**

> poor goro


End file.
